


A Different Course

by fawatson



Category: The Charioteer - Mary Renault
Genre: Gap Filler, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:02:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2310578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fawatson/pseuds/fawatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the party, Ralph helps Alec suture Sandy, drives Laurie back to the EMS hospital, and goes home to Bunny (from Ralph's perspective).</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Different Course

**Author's Note:**

> **Originally posted to:** maryrenaultfics at LiveJournal on 21/08/2014 and reposted to AO3 on 15/09/2014  
>  **Originally Written for:** Summer Challenge 2014  
>  **Prompt:** Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong singing "Summertime" (from _Porgy and Bess_ )  
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters and make no profit from them. 
> 
>    
>  **Author’s Notes:**  
>  (1)This story begins as Ralph and Laurie return to Alec and Sandy’s flat after picking up a suture kit. The words in **bold** are Renault’s own (pp. 184 to 186 in Longman’s 1953 edition).  
>  (2) Royal Doulton started producing Bunnykins china in the 1930s.
> 
>  

A Different Course 

Ralph had gone to pick up the suture kit on Sandy’s behalf – well, Alec’s, really. But now, newly conscious of Laurie’s pain, Ralph drove as swiftly as he could back to the flat. Laurie had only come to the party, _stayed_ at the party, because of him, delayed long past the time when his pain killers would have been topped up at hospital. Ralph’s joy at finding Laurie alive now was eroded by the knowledge he was responsible for this pain. At the foot of the stairs he dithered, angry at himself when he realised what effort climbing the stairs would cost Laurie. 

**“Oh, do get on, I can’t bear being stood over,”** Laurie grumbled.

 **“Sorry,” said Ralph. He turned and ran upstairs.**

He found Alec sitting with Sandy, talking to him in a low voice. It was clearly a private conversation so as soon as he knew Alec realised he had returned, Ralph retreated to the kitchen. Alec was not long following. 

“Have you anything I can give to Spud?” Ralph asked quietly, conscious that no matter how he was struggling, it would not be long before Laurie reached the top of the stairs. “His leg is playing up.” 

Alec nodded, “Just a minute.” He went back to the bedroom. Ralph hesitated a moment, then crossed after him, encountering Laurie who had paused to catch his breath on the landing; he looked white and drawn. Ralph indicated he planned to help Alec and ducked into the bedroom just as Alec turned round from rummaging in the top left drawer of a tallboy. 

“One of these,” Alec said, shaking a tablet from a small brown jar into Ralph’s right hand. 

It took Ralph only a couple of minutes to nip over to the sitting room and give the medicine to Laurie. He hated leaving him there alone, but there was nothing else for it; Alec would need his help. Back in the bedroom, Alec was carefully setting out instruments from the suture kit in his usual meticulous fashion. Ralph contemplated Sandy over the mug of strong black coffee Alec had thrust at him as soon as he sat down. Wish it though he may, Ralph knew he could not deny the implicit criticism of Alec’s hospitality. He was tight. He’d had one too many at the party, as a way of coping with the confusion generated by seeing Laurie, delightful though that had been. The additional drinks at the naval party were affecting him, rather more than he thought (hoped) Laurie had realised. But Alec was no Laurie; and it was impossible to hide anything from _him_. 

“Can you help?” Alec asked, once he had finished arranging the equipment to his satisfaction. 

Ralph’s mouth twisted slightly in a wry smile. It was clearly not a question about willingness. 

“Yes,” he tipped the mug enough to show just dregs remained. “You make coffee fit to raise the dead. I suppose you need me to hold him steady.”

“I daren’t give him anything for the pain, not on top of what he drank at the party, not to mention the aspirin.”

Ralph shrugged; he wouldn’t normally choose to touch Sandy, who, from his perspective wasn’t attractive at the best of times (and this was far from one of those). But he’d tackled worse duties in the past than keeping a man still for a bit of first aid. To his surprise, apart from one gasp at the very start, Sandy showed little reaction as Alec began suturing. A standard lamp had been brought from the sitting room and positioned so its light fell directly on the injured arm; but the bedside light shone on Sandy’s face. He was not unconscious; he must be feeling every prick of the needle, every pull on the gut as it was drawn through his flesh. But he made no further sound, though his mouth firmed into a set line and his eyes looked glazed. His arm did not flinch. It was not quite what Ralph expected from the limp, self-pitying, arse-licker he’d dragged out of the bath. Unless he was like Hazell; but, to Ralph’s relief, a quick glance at the sheet covering Sandy’s groin absolved him of that vice. He would have hated to think of Alec caught up in _that_ scene. 

As soon as the final stitch was knotted, Ralph quit the bedroom, leaving Alec to tidy up. Laurie was lying prone, and obviously fast asleep, on the sitting room divan. Only one lamp in the room remained lit; it left Laurie’s head in shadow but outlined him from the waist down. His clothes did nothing for him, Ralph thought, suddenly remembering the sight, years ago, of Laurie in swimming trunks, competing for the school. He had been beautifully proportioned, rather like a Greek statue. Clothes simply hid that, though he supposed that, similar to him, Laurie might think hiding his legs now a mercy. Ralph twitched his maimed hand reflexively. Laurie’s frame had filled out in the intervening years, which was to be expected as boy morphed into man; but he seemed somewhat thinner than the sleekly muscled youth of memory. Ralph was not sure whether memory was at fault or this was a consequence of serious injury – possibly the latter. 

“You’d best get him back soon,” Alec spoke quietly behind him. “There will be hell to pay as it is with him being so late; but nothing compared to the ruckus if he’s out all night.” 

But Laurie did not rouse as Ralph said his name; he sat down gently next to him, but light taps on the shoulder had no effect either. That pain killer he’d given Laurie earlier, on top of whatever else he’d had, had resulted in a profoundly deep sleep. In the end it took the combined efforts of both Ralph and Alec to wake Laurie sufficiently to get him on his feet. Ralph half-supported Laurie down the stairs, while Alec went ahead to unlock the car. He was in no shape to give directions but Alec explained landmarks to look for. 

“I’ll find it,” Ralph said confidently, “something that size can’t really hide itself.” 

“I’ll ring you tomorrow,” Alec said by way of farewell, just before Ralph drove off. 

He hadn’t driven far, before he noticed Laurie shiver slightly and stopped by the curb. The last time he and Alec had driven out for a pub meal, Alec had forgotten his coat. Ralph pulled it from the backseat and draped it over Laurie. Then, dissatisfied with such meagre protection from a chill, he pulled an old woven wool rug from the backseat and tucked it round his friend, before setting off cross town again at a rattling pace. Once he drove along country roads, Ralph dropped his speed dramatically. They were unfamiliar and dark; he needed to be more careful if he was to keep the two of them safe. Alec had told Ralph to take the left turning where five roads met; but _which_ left wasn’t clear and, when his choice soon petered out into a dirt track leading into a farmer’s field, Ralph cursed softly under his breath. It would be the very devil to turn round here. He decided to back and put the car in reverse, before twisting his torso round and hooking his left arm over the back of the passenger’s seat while he looked to the rear. Slowly he backed carefully down the track until it widened into a small road, big enough for a three point turn. He was finally facing the right direction, set to turn back onto the main road, when he paused. The manoeuvring had shifted Laurie off balance; he was so deeply asleep he was in danger of falling against Ralph’s left arm as he drove, and the rug had half fallen down. Tenderly Ralph righted Laurie, and tucked the rug round his shoulders again, before he resumed driving. 

It was not long before they reached the hospital grounds. Ralph stopped in a lay-by just outside the grounds in shadow of a large tree. In the darkness he could not see what kind; but its branches gave a semblance of privacy. He looked at the gift of the sleeping man in the next seat. Somehow, knowing Laurie had survived changed things. Why, he was not sure; it just did. Those trips back and forth to France had been hellish; when finally he was dumped into the drink his death had seemed inevitable. Yet he had survived. There had seemed no reason for it, still less when his letter was returned. All that effort to save men from the beach, yet the one man he really had wanted to save had died anyway – or so he thought at the time. Now, however, he knew otherwise. And clearly Laurie remembered him with sufficient fondness to have accepted Sandy’s invitation. It gave Ralph hope. 

He dug in his pocket for a cigarette, and his lighter. He missed the one he’d lost when he went for a swim; it had been a gift from a friend, and had a sentimental value that was irreplaceable. He supposed he should just be thankful that was all he’d lost. The slight sound as he snapped the lighter open sounded loud to him in the stillness of the night countryside; but Laurie did not stir, and after a few seconds Ralph closed the lighter without using it. Ralph knew he was taking advantage of Laurie’s drugged sleep when he brushed his fingertips lightly over Laurie’s hair, still more when he bent and placed a gentle kiss on his friend’s cheek. Ah...that got a reaction. Ralph pulled back quickly; his hands trembled slightly as he finally lit his cigarette, while beside him Laurie sat up. 

**“Hullo, Ralph,” said Laurie, smiling at him out of the peace he had just left.**

**“Hullo, Spud. Here we are. Will you be all right going in, or shall I come with you?”**

**“No, I’ll be all right. I feel wonderful now. I’ve been sound asleep.”**

**“Have you? Good. Oh, I’d better take Alec’s burberry. Next time we meet perhaps it won’t be such a madhouse. I’ll ring you up. Goodnight.”**

Ralph watched for several minutes as Laurie walked down the path to the hospital. It seemed a dreary place, Ralph thought. He had been in the city hospital which was one of those enormous Victorian monstrosities. But at least one had been able to get _out_ ; here in the country there was nowhere to go. He wondered if it would appear too eager if he rang in the morning. Perhaps he should wait a day or two. He did not want to. 

The trip back to town took less time; there was no faltering at the crossroads this time. All too soon Ralph was pulling into the curb outside the house where he had digs. Also arriving, though not by car, was Bunny. Ralph’s mouth thinned with distaste at the sight of Bunny’s companions. They were two of the more...obvious...members of the Bridstow scene; shirkers both, having come up with _some_ reason not to enlist. They had had a costume party planned for this evening, which, in the scene really meant drag. It had provided Bunny with an excuse not to attend Alec’s. Ralph had been aware for some time that there was no love lost there. He had just been relieved to arrive alone – doubly relieved once he knew Laurie was alive. 

“Hullo, darling,” one of Bunny’s companions drawled drunkenly. “We thought we’d better make sure our Bunnykins got home safe and sound. It wouldn’t do for someone with his sensitive tail to get lost on the way.” 

Bunny just giggled and shook his bottom in what, Ralph realised, he must think an enticing manner. He was definitely the worse for drink, drenched in some sort of sickly woman’s perfume, and clad in a pink tutu. Ralph had not seen it before; when he left the house earlier in the evening he had been wearing perfectly respectable trousers, but, Ralph remembered, carrying a hold-all. He must have changed at the party and not had the sense – or been too drunk – to change back before leaving. It would never do if their landlady saw him looking like this. Alec would be livid if that flowery scent lingered but there was nothing else for it; his burberry did duty again, this time covering up Bunny’s costume. The effeminate companions were easy to dismiss; and once again Ralph found himself supporting someone to negotiate stairs. Once in Bunny’s room, stripping off the offending tutu was, of course, misinterpreted; but in fact Bunny was far too drunk to seduce anyone. Ralph pulled down the covers, dumped Bunny on the divan bed, and hid the unpleasant sight with the blanket before leaving. He was almost to his own room when he thought better of it and returned to place a basin beside Bunny’s bed. The last thing he wanted was to pay for cleaning costs, which would undoubtedly fall to him, even if Bunny had been the one to vomit on the bedside rug. 

He really needed to get shot of this man; he’d known it for a while, but procrastinated about actually doing anything. He was very tired, he realised, as he organised himself for bed, in more than one way. It might not interfere with his efficiency on station. (He rather thought he could thank his time in trawlers for that; he was used to being called on at all hours and having to make vital decisions when only barely awake.) But, putting his efforts into coping that way had bled all energy from other aspects of his life, which had drifted into…choppy waters. It was long past time to steer a different course. As he got into bed he reviewed his schedule for the next day; he ought to have some time tomorrow to put the wheels in motion to find different digs.


End file.
